


when mixed with the colour black

by kuro49



Series: jason rare pair challenge [3]
Category: DCU, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mind Control, Omega Jason Todd, intersex omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 16:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20100433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: “Look at you, Jason.” Roman croons, and it is just as awful as he is purposely making it when he runs his other leather-gloved hand down Jason’s chest, past the bat insignia, the tense line of his abs, then even further down to touch where Bizarro has him stretched wide open on three thick fingers. “Look how well he will fill you up. Your pet’s cock is bigger than most alpha knots.”





	when mixed with the colour black

**Author's Note:**

> finished by the skin of my teeth for omegajasonweek on tumblr, written for day 6 prompt: Dark. someone feed me fluffy bizjay after this.
> 
> also the prospect of me ever writing a proper a/o fics is still one big shrug emoji.

He is blinking back black spots from his vision, pain radiating from the back of his head.

It is the kind of stark disorientation that leaves a particularly bad taste in his mouth, the kind that has him struggling to string together a coherent thought when he can’t tell up from down or left from right. The only thing Jason can reasonably grasp with his head still on a tilting spin is that this is all so fucking wrong.

The lights turned on are not bright but they still leave him with tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. He recognizes this room in vague details coming into a slow focus. It is Roman's private office. And the dread he feels just keeps on sinking that much further when he recalls the moment before he blacked out completely.

The one that had Bizarro turning on him before Jason had the ability to even think to react. Oh, that's right. He goes down brutally quick.

For all the training he has been through: Crime Alley, Bruce, Talia’s tutors, the All-Caste, all of it negates the fact that this is still a Superman clone grabbing him by the ankle and putting him effectively down on the ground with just a fraction of his true strength.

Bizarro.

_Bizarro_, he thinks.

“Hey, big guy.” Jason rasps out, and that's about as much as he gets out.

"R-red." And it seems like that’s about just as much Bizarro can get out too.

With one cheek pressed against the shaggy white rug, Jason is lying prone with Bizarro leaning just behind him and if Jason turns his head, he will be able to see Roman sitting in the armchair a couple feet away. The man sips on wine that Jason wants to spill, sucking down on a particularly pungent cigar that Jason wants to stub out against his eye.

"You're up." Roman states, then tilts his head to Bizarro still looming over Jason who finally has enough sense to stay where he’s been put, sprawled out across the rug with his leather jacket gone, the start of his lower back exposed. Jason is still trying to put together the severity of the situation when the amusement in Roman’s voice has his blood running ice cold. "And it looks like he's up too."

If Jason thought things are shaping up to be worse than just simply bad, he is figuring it can always end up worst.

Because Bizarro is pressing down against him, and it is unmistakable when Jason can feel every _fucking_ thing. There is the thick line of Bizarro’s cock dragging over the swell of his ass to nudge at the place right between Jason’s legs. Even with the fabric of their pants still between them, the intention is all there. Bizarro has gone near silent, his breathing the only rough ragged noises that Jason can hear from him on every pass.

"What have you done, Roman?" Jason spits out at Black Mask, and it is venomous. He asks like there is a possibility in the world where he hasn't already figured out Roman's plan. It's not a terribly complex thing but the terrible things in life rarely are all that complicated. He asks, buying time for a plan of his own that he doesn’t have. 

The techno organic virus leaves Bizarro looking like a hollow shell of himself. Jason has never gotten a good grip on self preservation because his heart pangs for the clone even as he remains pinned beneath the man. Bizarro is looking almost confused when he is moving on accords to what isn't himself, Roman centrefold in his head and taking hold, making every motion Bizarro makes on the crime boss' dictation alone.

"Why do you look so afraid?" Roman asks from the corner of the room. "He's your friend, isn't he?"

And of course, the bastard's having a great time when Jason can hear the lilting tone of delight in his voice.

"He's not yours if that's what you're trying to ask." Jason grits out but he is also flinching on the rock of Bizarro's cock against the seam of his pants, this time a bit harder, a lot more insistent. And Jason can feel the clear cut of its massive size pushing at his cunt.

"Oh, I know that, Jason. He's _yours_."

"He isn't anyone's." Jason is seething because he knows it is all for moot. You don't just shake off the control of the virus like you do a cold. It isn't so simple. Bizarro needs the antidote and Jason is currently pinned under him with no room to even move anymore than a twitch.

"Sure, I'll give you that if it makes you feel better hearing it out loud." Roman keeps going, keeps pushing in that irritating way that he does. Sarcasm and some grandiose gesture like that speech he made about saving this lady of his city from the vermin when he's the biggest one yet.

"It doesn't. And I really don't want anything you give me if that isn't clear enough."

"Do you really think it matters?" Roman puts down his wine glass, the red all gone, his cigar sitting propped up on an ashtray next to him burning away as he leans forward in his seat. He still has his mask on and Jason cannot see his eyes but he can feel his gaze burning over him.

Jason knows what's to come.

"Do your worst, Roman." He says regardless because he also knows he can brace himself all he can but he still wouldn't be ready for any of it.

Roman throws his head back, laughs, and it is a fucking sinister thing in the face of Jason's bravado.

"I intend to, Jason. I wouldn't disappoint you like that."

He is blinking back stars, his breathing coming out harsh through his teeth.

Up on his hands and knees, head hanging between his shoulders while his fingers dig painfully into the skin of his palms, Jason’s clothes are not all gone but the back of his pants are torn, dragged all the way down from his hips to sit pooling at his knees. The pain at the back of his head receding to a dull thing in comparison to everything else that is igniting pleasure across his skin.

“You’re not in heat but look at you.” Roman marvels as Bizarro fits a third finger in, alongside of the first two, fucking them in on a near brutal pace, spreading them wide apart to stretch that tight wet passage of Jason’s omega cunt.

It has him squeezing his eyes shut, biting his lips until it goes bloodless then sinking the edge of his teeth down even harder until it draws blood. He knows Roman's plan and he thought he knew what to expect from a sadist like Black Mask. He imagine that maybe, if Roman does everything just right, even _break_ under the ministrations. But Roman doesn't attempt to break him in the way he expects him to, doesn't make Bizarro fuck him just like that, quick and hard and harsh. Doesn't make him hurt or bleed or cry.

No, Jason is made to rock back against those fingers, his whole body trembling around those thick three thick digits as he does. Shivers run up and down the length of his spine, the sopping wet noises coming from between the spread of his thighs make his ears burn. Shame lighting up his veins like fire, his face red and hot but not yet streaked in tears even if he is soaked in other places.

Jason is dripping slick, can feel it running down between the inside of his thighs, making a mess of the carpet between them. He looks the part of the eager omega, short of whining and presenting the back of his neck for the bite that isn't going to come. Bizarro's warmth remains a steady presence even if it doesn't bring any actual comfort.

All the while Roman stays close.

“You don’t need an alpha at all, do you, Jason?” He asks, getting down next to him and reaching out with a hand to grab Jason by the hair, tipping his head back as far as it will go to bare his throat for him. “You’ve got everything you can want right here.”

Jason grinds his teeth, his jaw tensing up even further when he is yanked up by a shoulder, his back hitting Bizarro's chest while the fingers still working inside of him shift to only press in further and deeper, rubbing up along his walls to hit all of the spots that Jason didn't even know could make his whole body go pliant and sweet like this. 

He spits in Roman’s face for that alone and even though it only lands on the mask, it still allows him to grasp firmly at a small sense of satisfaction. He holds on to that tightly.

But Roman isn't one bit deterred. Not when he just drags a finger over the bump of Jason's Adam's apple while he swallows hard.

“Look at you, Jason.” Roman croons, and it is just as awful as he is purposely making it when he runs his other leather-gloved hand down Jason’s chest, past the bat insignia, the tense line of his abs, then even further down to touch where Bizarro has him stretched wide open on three thick fingers. “Look how well he will fill you up. Your pet’s cock is bigger than most alpha knots.”

Jason wants to tell the man to shut up already but he barely has any words in him that isn't breathy little _no_'s punctuated out of him each time the rough pads of Bizarro's fingers rub so insistently against that same sweet spot that has his hips going completely weak. Held up by Bizarro and kept in place by Roman's hands, one at his throat while the other just traces at the seam of his slit, not quite pushing in but felt all the same.

Roman doesn't tell him all the things Jason already knows, calling him wet and easy and fucking made for this.

He doesn't have to, Jason's body is pointedly saying all of those things to himself all for him.

He is blinking back tears that he hasn't spilled, looking up even if nothing else is looking up for him.

And Bizarro is looking right back when he turns him bodily around, has him flat on his back on that rug, dragging his pants completely off both legs so Jason is naked down past his waist. Jason doesn't resist when Bizarro pushes his thighs apart, then wider still to accommodate the full fit of his size between the spread of Jason's legs.

"I'm in his head, Jason. And let me tell you, he's lost. He's got no idea why you're so upset." Roman says, and he pauses for a split second to make note of the soft waft of fruit ripen through to rotten. The faint scent is a thing he only picks up through the clone's enhanced sensory sensitivity and he wonders if it holds any significance to the steel gaze Jason keeps on him. "But you'll teach him, won't you? You're going to show him exactly what gets you feeling so good you've got tears in your eyes."

He doesn't sink so far as to succumb to his own base instincts but in this moment, Jason sorely wants to. He reeks of distress, the scent breaking past the neutralizing patches he's got stuck on the inside of all of his clothes. And the smell clings to every bit of him like blood he cannot wash off of his hands. Except he knows Roman isn't an alpha and Bizarro has no dynamics to speak of.

Jason can let out whine after whine all he wants and bare his throat to them on top of all that but neither one of them would have any inclination to soothe away the pain even if they do pick up those faint tendrils of rot. Bizarro spreads apart the flushed folds of his cunt with his thumbs, and it is an obscene sight when he works the head of his cock over and around the opening without pushing in, rubbing until his cockhead comes away dribbling in Jason’s omega slick.

Jason hates it when his body shudders at the sensation and goes even wetter at the anticipation. Hates it so much more when Roman makes him pant, makes his cunt ache and drip, makes him clench down on empty and _want_. And this might just be the worst part of all of this.

“I'm not going to make it hurt terribly, Jason. I want you to think back on this and know that I'm kinder than I need to be.”

And Roman is true to his word, as unbelievable as that is.

The blunt head of Bizarro’s cock is thick, thicker and bigger than anything Jason has ever had inside of him. It feels as though all the air in his lungs are being purposely pushed out on one well-aimed thrust. He feels his body give way to accommodate the stretch but the burn of it doesn’t come anywhere near his threshold for pain tolerance.

A seriously fucked up part of him thinks he wouldn’t even bat an eyelash if Roman decides to fuck him too, shoving in alongside of Bizarro. Or hell, even make use of his ass at the same time, perhaps without any preparation at all. But Roman doesn’t fuck him himself for that matter, the man settles for wrapping a black gloved hand around the base of Jason's cock and dragging up.

Jason doesn't want to derive any enjoyment from this but the pleasure from the way he leaks precum feels like a betrayal. Jason isn't strong enough to shove at Roman's hand, instead, he brings his own down against Bizarro's forearm at the penetration, squeezing down painfully hard, trying for anything to bring Bizarro's mind back to the forefront of control. His other hand digs into the shaggy fabric of the rug, his knuckles going completely bone white.

Roman is deliberate in his methods. And Jason knows this too.

Roman doesn’t leave anything more permanent than a nasty bruise in his control of Bizarro, doesn’t make the clone take turns in fucking his cunt and his ass like he could until Jason is ruined, pink and puffy and dripping the thick heady rush of Bizarro’s cum from both holes. Calling it kindness in that this could all be so much worse.

But that all comes to a head when Biz leans down, presses his lips to the crown of Jason’s sweat soaked hair and Jason almost has himself fooled that this motion is all Bizarro in an attempt to comfort his friend in a situation where nothing is.

“R-red him looks...G-good like this.”

It might be Bizarro’s voice and Bizarro's words but that is all Roman Sionis.

Each punctuation of those words has Jason squeezing his eyes shut. Roman’s grip tightens around him, his thumb swiping at the mess of precum across the head, his next whisper a harsh mean thing that settles Jason when he has him finally coming on a sob.

“I'm going to send you back to daddybats with your cunt filled to the brim with a faulty Superman clone’s cum and see what he thinks the next time he tries to send one of his _kids_ to try to take apart my business.”

If this is the lesson Roman wants him to learn in any capacity, Jason wants to tell Roman how sorely he's mistaken any of the ties he still has to the family when this only vindicates what Bruce has thought of him since the first night he's brought him home from the same wretched place the man watched his parents die.

Jason lets go of Bizarro, releases the death grip he had on the rug, lets go of every single point of contact he has as his whole body goes near limp from exhaustion of an orgasm forced out of him.

“You’re really something else, Roman.” Jason rasps out, reaching out before Roman can get up, snags his hand right into the crisp corner of Roman's three-piece Armani suit but not before he is dragging his fingers right across the mess on his own stomach, transferring his own release all over the fabric. It is petty but Jason has always been capable of much lower attempts to irk.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Jason.” Roman doesn't give him the satisfaction of even dismay but the damage is done, cum doesn't really come out of designer suits the way he wants it to. “If you weren’t here to ruin everything, I might have kept you around even if it's just to have a hole to fuck.”

Jason drops his head back against the carpets, grins a bloody toothy thing.

He opens his mouth on a chuckle and it breaks first on a groan with Bizarro still driving into him, the head of the clone's cock dragging all along the sensitive walls before slamming right back in. But he gets the noise out of the way to say, "Fuck you too."

Roman lets out a soft noise that might almost be a laugh. And the last thing Jason sees is the man settling back on that chair just a few feet away, picking up that still burning cigar to pull in a drag before Jason blacks out again, this time happily.


End file.
